The Art of Fading into Oblivion
by B. Carefree
Summary: Sebastian Smythe didn't want to move to Ohio. He didn't want to go to Dalton Academy. And he definitely didn't want to join the Warblers. But he did, and now he's invested in the cause.


**Hello! This will be my first story on this site, so I'd greatly appreciate feedback. I'm still not sure exactly how to use this though... Any help/advice would be greatly appreciated! :) **

**Okay, Sebastian Smythe is honestly my favorite character. I love him so freaking much. have no idea how this story just came to mind. It just did. I was sitting around thinking about my love for Sebastian. And this ensued. Oh God...**

* * *

If someone had told Sebastian Smythe that for his seventeenth birthday he would be forced to wrap up his perfect life in Paris and be shipped off to Ohio to live with his practically non-existent father, he would have outright laughed in their face.

But now he feels like doing anything but laughing. He feels like punching someone in the face. And that someone is his stupid father. He doesn't want to live in Ohio. He doesn't want to "grow closer" with some bastard who is clearly trying to salvage his terrible relationship with his son for good press.

He glances down at the crumpled paper in his hands, wanting to scream in frustration. He has no idea where his dorm is and he's been wandering around the campus for hours. There is no way in hell he will ask for help either. He's gone to dozens of private schools in his life, but none have ever been as large as Dalton. He'll deny it if anyone asked, but he is secretly impressed by Dalton. But as expensive and lavish as the school appears, it doesn't make up for the fact that he isn't in Paris. That he isn't off fooling around with a guy. That he isn't joking and laughing with his friends. No, now he must completely reinvent himself and bond with the students at Dalton. But they all seem like idiots to Sebastian.

It doesn't help that he is standing around in a pair of ripped gray jeans and a green polo while the other students in uniform gawk like morons, not bothering to offer him help, not that he would accept it anyways. He just wants to go to his room and sleep because jet lag is a bitch. _This is embarrassing_, Sebastian thinks bitterly to himself. _Where the hell is my goddamn dorm?_

"Hey," a cheerful voice chirps from behind Sebastian. "You need any help? You look a little lost." The enthusiasm of the voice is enough to make Sebastian vomit. He whirls around to find two students standing in the middle of the hall in uniform. The one who spoke is shorter with dark hair and a large grin. The other is tall, blonde, and silently sulking.

"Actually..." Sebastian begins, weighing his options. He doesn't know where he is going, so it makes sense to just ask for help, even if it means dealing with a bunch of morons. But then again, he doesn't want to give anyone the wrong impression that he's looking for friends. He's just looking to get out of the country as fast as possible and back to his real home. "...yeah. I'm new. I'm Sebastian Smythe." He plasters a fake, charming smile on his face because he may as well pretend to be friendly if he wants to get anything accomplished here.

"Cool. I'm Nick," the dark-haired boy says, the grin never leaving his face. "And my friend is Jeff. Ignore him, as he's being an asshole right now." Nick shoots the blond a glare, who simply rolls his eyes in response. Sebastian couldn't help but smirk at their little lover's quarrel, despite the fact that he doesn't give two shits about their personal problems. He has the overwhelming urge to tell them so, but he keeps his snarky outbursts quiet and to a minimum. He's quickly learned that many of the people in Ohio (and America in general) seem to have thinner skin than those in France, and seem to lack an appreciation of his snark and sarcasm.

"So... My dorm?" Sebastian asks bluntly, handing Nick the paper.

Nick laughs awkwardly and Sebastian figures he must have noticed Sebastian's lack of interest. "Didn't mean to drag you into this," he says as his eyes flicker over the page. After a while, he grins and laughs again, but the laugh is genuine and Sebastian wants to sock him for being so happy. "What are the odds? You've got the room beside us, right Jeff?" Nick hands the blond the paper.

Jeff nods and Sebastian wonders if this kid ever talks. But at the same time, Sebastian resists the urge to scowl and snap at the two boys because he is definitely not looking forward to spending copious amounts of time with Jeff and Nick. And the fact that he is going to have to share a room with some _uncultured swine_ is not appealing in any way, shape, or form.

"This is so cool! I mean, you seem like a really cool guy and I'm sure we'll get to know you better and it'll be fun and you'll love Dalton, once you meet new people and make friends and stuff. You should join some clubs or sports or something. Jeff and I are in the Warblers, it's a glee club. You should join, do you sing? Even if you don't sing you should still join 'cause its so fun but I don't think I've ever heard of someone who can't sing joining the Warblers so maybe that's not a good idea, unless you can sing then of course you should totally join and—"

"I'm going to take Sebastian to his room. Alone," Jeff says curtly, interrupting Nick's babbling, and Sebastian feels the need to thank Jeff and call him his savior or something. But instead Sebastian rolls his eyes at Nick's hurt expression. He honestly didn't peg Nick as the puppy dog, overexcited type at first glance, but apparently he was wrong. But he doesn't really care because holding a conversation with Nick is literally making him tired.

* * *

"...So is he always that...enthusiastic?" Sebastian asks skeptically, once he enters his room with Jeff. He drops his bags onto what he assumed is his half of the room. The other half is littered with indie rock and soccer posters, vinyls, and various musical and soccer paraphernalia. So it is safe to assume everything on that side of the room belonged to his roommate. Sebastian inspects the posters with a careful eye, as he will _not_ room with someone with terrible taste in music. But the bands don't seem half-bad so Sebastian isn't too concerned at the moment.

"No. He's usually the calmer one, if you can believe it. We're just in the middle of a fight. It's no big deal. I'm sure you don't give a shit." Jeff grins and shoves his hands into his back pockets. "I guess you can say I'm being passive aggressive."

"You're right," Sebastian says before he could think better of it, because in all honesty, he doesn't give a shit. But Jeff flashes Sebastian a hurt look of surprise and Sebastian mentally curses as he racks his brain for some way to cover his ass. "I mean... Something looked off between you two." Jeff nods, and Sebastian is suddenly thankful that Jeff doesn't seem to be the brightest guy around.

"Yeah. He just tends to ramble when he's upset or nervous. And I guess I was kinda giving him the cold shoulder. But whatever. He deserves it." Jeff crosses his arms in a manner that suggests to Sebastian that he doesn't want to talk about it. And Sebastian is more than happy to oblige. He isn't sure why Nick and Jeff think that he's Dr. Phil or something, but he finds it amusing that they already seem to latch onto him like he's a life-preserver. And while Sebastian isn't in the mood for friends, he figures it can't hurt to have a few people who he can occasionally tolerate, so he tells Jeff that he's tired and they should meet up later. But whether he actually will or not, Sebastian isn't sure.

Sebastian flops onto his bed, still in his day clothes and closes his eyes. He's only unpacked half of his belongings and he hasn't spoken with his roommate yet, but his eyes are heavy and he wants nothing more than to sleep for an eternity. Granted, he still wishes he is back in Paris and away from his father, but decides neither of those wishes will come true any time soon.

So Sebastian decides then and there that he will do his best to make his stay Lame-Ass, Ohio tolerable. And he has a faint idea of how to do so. But before he can think more about his plan, he thankfully fades away into the unconscious oblivion that is sleep.


End file.
